


Coulson Season

by Canuck_Lex



Category: Looney Tunes | Merrie Melodies, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Fluff and Humor, It was a Tuesday for Bugs, Not Agents Of SHIELD compliant, Phil Coulson Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-03 09:04:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12745212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canuck_Lex/pseuds/Canuck_Lex
Summary: During all his time at SHIELD, Agent Phil Coulson has only ever tried to turn down one mission. And it has to do with a garden pest from 30 years ago.The mashup that was never asked for, the opponent no one saw coming.Especially Phil.(End notes recently updated)





	1. The Mission

**Avengers Tower**

Phil Coulson pinched the bridge of his nose.

"So help me, Barton, if you don't cut this out..."

The rest of the Avengers watched bemusedly as Clint Barton literally rolled on the floor laughing. All the rest of them could hear was ".....season...." "...license..." "...pew...pew..."

Clint pulled himself together, sitting up and wiping his eyes.

"I'm fine sir, really....I...."

He met Phil's eyes and burst into another stream of uncontrollable laughter.

Phil sighed. He reached down, grabbed his archer by the ear, and yanked him up.

"My office, Barton."

Still chortling, the archer was pulled insistently by his handler into the elevator.

Steve turned to Natasha.

"Uh, what was that about?"

She shrugged.

"Not a clue."

* * *

**Nick Fury's Office, SHIELD Headquarters**

_24 hours earlier_

Phil could feel a tension headache coming on as he looked at the aerial footage.

"I've seen this. Before I joined the Rangers."

"I know. It's in your file."

Nick Fury's eye danced, but he kept the rest of his face straight.

Phil looked at his boss.

"I'd like to refuse this mission, Sir."

"And I'd like my eye back, HYDRA disbanded, and a fairy godmother. _Nuh uh_ , Coulson. We need **YOU** down there."

Phil sighed, but nodded at the order. "Right away, Sir."

As he turned to go, Fury added, "Take Barton with you as backup."

Phil whirled. "Absolutely not! Nick..."

"You need backup, Phil. You're still not 100% from Loki, and I don't want to hear the whining from Rogers if you wind up back in medical."

"What did I do to you to deserve this? Let me take Nat instead, maybe I can get Morse to back me..."

Fury glanced up from his paperwork. "Let me give you a choice, Cheese. It's either Barton or Stark."

Phil became quiet.

"I'll **_get_**   you for this."

"You can try."

* * *

"So, boss, what's the mission?"

Clint loped alongside his handler to the QuinJet.

Phil sighed.

"First, everything on this mission is need to know only. That includes Natasha."

Clint stopped. "I never keep anything from Nat, you know that, boss."

"Well, on this one you are. Or I'll kill you myself."

"Sounds serious." Clint stashed his gear, and hopped into the pilot's seat. Phil sat beside him. "What are we dealing with? Another Hydra infiltration? Ross rearing his ugly head again? Aliens terrorizing Nevada?"

"New Mexico, actually, but it's not aliens."

Phil swallowed. Clint glanced over as he fired up the jet.

"It's a..." Phil's voice became small.

"Coulson, I've never seen you this tense. We can handle it, just tell me what it is!"

"A _rabbit_."

"Excuse me?"

"And maybe a duck."

Clint rested his head against the jet. "What are we dealing with, a possessed petting zoo?"

"I wish...look, just get us to New Mexico. I'll explain when we get there."

* * *

As the Quinjet soared above the New Mexican desert, Clint let out a low whistle.

"Something's churning up the ground big time down there."

"Yep."

"Boss, those tunnels are too big for an ordinary rabbit."

"Yep."

Clint thought, then paled. "Are we dealing with killer rabbits, like from Monty Python? Do we need to go find the holy grenade of Antioch?"

"Don't be silly, Barton. Those don't exist."

"Then what?"

 Phil sighed. He turned to Clint.

"If you _ever_ repeat what I'm going to tell you, I will make sure that they never find the body. Got it?"

"You can trust me, Boss...you know that."

"All right. It was just before I joined the Rangers...."

* * *

**Wisconsin, 1987**

Phil Coulson had better things to do with his last nights before going through Ranger training. But his mother had been insistent.

Old Mrs. Cooney had had her vegetable garden, specifically her carrot patch destroyed the past couple of weeks. But every time they had fixed it up, the culprits had come back.

"And you should have seen the size of the tunnels." she wailed. "That's no ordinary beast...."

So, Mrs. Coulson had volunteered her son, "A military man, you know..." to lay in wait for it and save her crop.

It was late evening. He had had tickets to the local theatre's production. While he had seen better at University, he had a lead on the main soprano's phone number that he had been hoping to follow up.

As he scouted the field, the ground started to tremble. A large mound of dirt came flying towards him.

This was good, he could bag whatever that was, and get on with his evening. Phil shouldered his rifle, and placed himself in the path's way, ready to fire.

The mound of dirt came to his feet, then stopped suddenly. From the dirt, a white paw came up and tapped on his boot.

Strange.

The dirt parted, and up came two **LARGE** ears, swiveling around, and then pointing in his direction. Slowly, a very,  very large rabbit emerged from the dirt. It looked at Phil and his gun calmly, then he reached down and pulled out...a carrot?

"Eh....What's up, Doc?"

"You **talk**."

"Better than you do. What's with the gun, sport?"

Phil decided he'd play along.

"I'm waiting for the rabbit that's stealing all the carrots."

"You don't say." The rabbit munched for a bit. "And...err...what are you going to do with him when you find him?"

"Well...I'm planning on shooting it..."

"Great, another one. OK...well...good luck then."

The rabbit got up out of the hole.

"Oh, no you don't..." came a muffled sound from underground.

A black duck pulled himself up out of the rabbit hole. It walked up to Phil and grabbed him by the coat.

"Do you not know a rabbit when you see one?"

Phil gaped. "And **you** talk."

"That I do, Buster. And let me let you in on a little secret." The duck leaned in closer. "Rabbits **EAT** carrots."

"Uh huh...?"

"So...?"

"That...rabbit...has been taking the carrots?"

"Very good! It usually takes the other hunter we deal with a bit more time to come to this point, so you're doing just fine, Bud."

The rabbit stood there, eating his carrot, watching the duck impassively.

The duck continued. "And so, Mr. Hunter, what were you going to do with the carrot thief when you found him?"

"Uh..." Phil couldn't hold on to any of his thoughts. Had he been drugged or something? "I was going to...shoot him?"

"Good." The duck started jumping up and down. "So, **SHOOT HIM NOW! SHOOT HIM NOW**!"

The rabbit put the carrot away. "It's true." he sighed. "I am the carrot thief. Would you like to shoot me now or shoot me later?"

" **SHOOT ME NOW! SHOOT ME NOW!** " the duck screamed.

Phil snapped a look at the duck. "What did you say?"

"Are you deaf? I said, no, I demand, that you **SHOOT. ME. NOW**!!"

Well, he had enough bullets. Phil raised his gun and fired at point blank.

The duck was still standing, but his beak had done something strange. Phil checked his gun. It seemed to be working fine.

The duck readjusted his beak, and stomped over to the rabbit, who had gone back to eating his carrot.

"Let's try that again, shall we?"

The rabbit shrugged. "I don't have anywhere to go..."

"All right."

"Would you like to shoot me now or shoot me later?"

" **SHOOT ME NOW! SHOOT ME**..."

_**BLAST!** _

"You never get those pronouns right, do you, Daffy?"

"You'rrre despicable."

Phil decided he had enough.

"Look guys, I've got a lead on a date tonight, and I'd really like to get this over with...."

He lifted his gun and started to fire. Phil prided himself on being the best shot in the county. Every single shot went wide of the two animals. Just what was in that meatloaf?

He chased the two animals into the forest. The duck took off into the trees. The rabbit continued to zigzag until it made it to the outdoor theatre, and then scampered into the back. Frustrated, Phil snarled and took off after it into the theatre, stomping over a playbill advertising the summer stock's performance schedule:

**_The Barber of Seville/Marriage of Figaro_ **

* * *

**Present Day**

**Albuquerque city limits, New Mexico**

Clint Barton couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. They were lucky he had landed the Quinjet before the giggles had turned themselves into uncontrollable guffaws.

Phil glared at him.

"It's **NOT** funny."

"It's… _hil...ar...ious_...Sir...." Clint wiped his eyes. "Are you saying you're off the market because you're married to a **BUNNY** in Wisconsin?"

"It's **NOT** legal!"

"Oh, I'm sure..."

"30 years on, and there are still people who can't look at me back home. It took most of the crew to pull me out of that cake. I lost any chance with the soprano, and that frigging bunny got away! Not to mention that duck. And my hairline has never been the same since!" Phil snarled, as he grabbed the Destroyer gun.

"Sir...that's a little overkill." Clint snickered, then sobered (as much as he could). "Look, before we do anything rash...let me try?"

"If I couldn't take that thing with a rifle, what good is a bow going to do?"

"Just...please? Trust me?"

" **FINE!** "

Clint got out of the jet, and scouted around for the most recent tunneling. Approaching the mounds, he began to dig up an entrance. Suddenly two ears popped out of the dirt, and a annoyed voice could be heard.

"Hey, watch the moulding, Mac!"

The rest of the rabbit pulled itself up, looked at the plane and two men in front of him.

"Ehh...what's up, Doc?"

Clint grinned.

"Need a lift to Pismo Beach?"

"And all the clams I can eat? Boy, Mac, you'd be a lifesaver."

Clint lifted an eyebrow. "You have no idea."

The rabbit pulled out a suitcase. "I keep taking a wrong turn at Albuquerque, and I wind up in all these weird places. Have to do a lot of backtracking."

"I bet."

The rabbit stopped and paused in front of Phil. Phil twitched.

"Have we met before?"

"Trust me, Bugs, leave the grumpy man in the shades alone."

The rabbit shrugged.

As Phil turned to follow, he felt his jacket being tugged at. Turning, he saw the duck.

"I remember you." it said. "Nice gun, you've moved up in the world."

Phil narrowed his eyes.

Unperturbed, the duck continued, "Did you know that it's rabbit season here in New Mexico?"

From the front of the plane, two voices chorused, "Duck season!"

Without a word, Phil turned his back on the duck and stalked back into the plane.

"No, really. It's Rabbit Season!"

The Quinjet took off, flying off into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s not quite all, folks.
> 
> After initially posting this, I realized that there was one loose end. And so I did some researching on the hunting laws in New Mexico.
> 
> If you have the necessary permits...it is both duck and rabbit season at the time of this writing.
> 
> It should go without saying that it is never open season on Phil Coulson. Ever.


	2. Coulson Season - The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It cannot be stated enough that it is never open season on Agent Phil Coulson. 
> 
> Even if it is Clint Barton...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because lackam asked for more and made me smile. And because there are ferrets on tonight's episode of Agents of SHIELD. 
> 
> Happy Holidays to all!

Phil Coulson didn’t exactly shove a hysterically cackling Clint Barton into his office. And he didn’t slam the door behind them. It was more of a...forceful...nudge, and he was just ensuring that the door made it all the way closed. It had a strange tendency to jam whenever Barton and Romanoff were apart and one of them were with him.

He fixed his Agent with a steely glare.

“Barton, I very much need you to pay attention.” he said in a soft voice, but in a tone that had made baby Agents shake in fear.

Barton’s eyes fixed on his longtime handler.

“I need you to fully understand what will happen should you go back out there and let anyone else know what I shared with you this evening.”

“First, you will be completing your outstanding paperwork. ALL of it. Since you have yet to turn in a complete set since you were assigned to me, that is several years worth.”

Barton winced. “Well, you never explained why it needed to be done in triplicate, Sir.”

Coulson held up his hand. “I’m not done yet. You will then find that your range time will have mysteriously shrunk to 40 minutes. A week.”

“I get the point...”

“And then you will be going on a milk run. With Gregg, Bennett, and Wen.”

“Oh. No...not those three. Wherever they go, disaster follows. And they can’t shut up...”

“Appropriate, I think. On your return, you will find that that all vents at SHIELD HQ and in Stark Tower will have been extensively and imaginatively reinforced. I think I’ll bring in Stark to assist.”

Barton turned pale.

Coulson raised an eyebrow.

“Do we understand one another?”

“Quite.”

“And this little trip?”

“Recon over Hydra tunnels.”

Coulson smiled. “Thank you.”

There was a knock on the door. Coulson opened it.

“Agent Gregg?”

“Sir.” The other man replied. “Director Fury is asking for you.”

Coulson rubbed at his temples.

“Did he say what it was about, Agent?”

Agent Gregg swallowed. “Something about a singing frog, Sir...”

Coulson pushed past Gregg and stalked down the hall. Barton started to follow, then turned and clapped his fellow Agent on the shoulder.

“If I were you,” he whispered, “I’d erase this from your memory.”

Then he jogged down the hall after his handler.

Agent Gregg scratched his head.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell them about the pig...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, lackam asked me about the frog and pig. My response:
> 
> Well...it could be the “Hello my baby” frog & Porky Pig. But there are lots of frog and pig combos in the multiverse. The pig I was thinking about was fairly...protective? And just who would teach a pig karate?
> 
> Oh, Agent Coulson...didn’t see you there....we need to talk? Something about my paperwork? How do I feel about outdoors maneuvers in the Arctic in winter? 
> 
> Sorry, got to run (err...literally...)


End file.
